


We Do, We Don't

by WernickesArea



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, CEO!Jinyoung, F/M, His wife is purely fictional, Infidelity, Jinyoung is married, Jinyoung makes some good choices, M/M, Mark is a cutie, Romance, So much angst, but also a lot of bad ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WernickesArea/pseuds/WernickesArea
Summary: Many dreamt of a life like Park Jinyoung’s one, rich CEO of an affirmed business company.He could own everything he wished for; nothing was out of his reach.    This is not you; open your eyes Jinyoung.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaebumsbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaebumsbird/gifts).



> Hello everyone! I've been working on this fic for such a long time now omg. I wanted it to be good and the more I wrote it, the more ideas would come to mind. In the end, it became so long I had to cut it into two chapters to make it more _seizable_... 
> 
> [Jaebumsbird](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jaebumsbird/profile) requested this from me like... almost one month ago? I'm sorry if I took so long! I hope you will enjoy what I came up with! Your prompt was so lovely, I needed to make it justice!

The monotonous beeping sound coming from the alarm clock woke Jinyoung up. He reached one arm out of his covers to punch the device right on the snooze button, groaning loudly. The sun was barely peeking from behind his heavy curtains, thin strings of warmth letting a soft light into his bedroom.

He rolled out of bed, his feet touching the cold floor. The other side of the wide mattress was still occupied by a warm body, softly snoring and unperturbed by the wake up call. Jinyoung paddled into the wide bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His stubble was visible on his chin, just like the bags under his eyes – not too evident, yet clearly there. He mechanically went through his daily routine, his hands acting as a disembodied unit. Jinyoung shaved, washed his face, brushed his teeth and dressed. The knot on his tie was impeccable as always, the light blue accents complementing the deep, navy blue of his suit. 

He was straightening a wrinkle on his shirt when his eye fell on the golden band ring sitting on the edge of the sink. He stared at it for quite a long time, before he picked it up and stared at it. The metal felt as cold against his skin as the feelings it made bubble up in his chest. Without a second thought, he stuffed it inside the pocket of his pants. Once he exited the bathroom, he threw one last glance at the woman sleeping on the unmade bed. Calling Yeojin his wife sounded so hollow in his head, like a faraway echo that bounced off onto his skull and sounded like a constant, eery reminder. 

There was a small luggage at the foot of the bed, which was full to the brim with stuff Jinyoung would need in his business travel. His expensive suits were already being taken care of by some of his employers, leaving only casual outfits and miscellaneous objects to take up the space in his baggage. He zipped the suitcase up, picking it off the floor. The door opened and closed with a soft click, and just like that Jinyoung was out of his house and stepping into the curb to go get his car. 

The road to the airport wasn’t as trafficked as he had thought, cars rolling by him at a steady pace. The radio was passing some old hits, music soothing Jinyoung’s mood and helping him relax. His plane for Los Angeles would leave in a couple of hours, which left him more than enough time to go through security and get a cup of coffee – with two shots of Espresso. He was walking towards the gate when his phone rung in his coat pocket. His eyes fell briefly on the caller ID before he answered. 

_”Goodmorning, sunshine.”_ A teasing voice said. 

Jinyoung smiled, laughing softly in the receiver. 

“Hello, Jaebum. How are you doing?”

_”Same old. Are you on your way to the airport right now?”_

Jinyoung nodded. “I’m here already. The plane is leaving shortly. Did you need anything?”

_“Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t vanished. When was the last time I saw you? Two weeks ago?”_

“You know I’m busy with work.” Jinyoung said, stopping right in front of gate thirteen. 

_“Isn’t that what you always tell me…”_ Jaebum sighed. _“Hear me out. When you get back to Korea you need to call me, okay? I miss your stupid ass. And I can’t believe you just made me say that.”_

Jinyoung laughed, muffling the sounds coming out of his mouth with his hand. “Promised.”

_“Good.”_

There was a moment of silence before Jaebum spoke again.

_“How is it going with…”_

Jinyoung’s good mood crumbled to the floor like a house of cards. He had missed talking to his best friend, it really had been a long time since they had last gone out. Yet, all of a sudden he remembered why he hadn’t tried to keep in touch all that much. 

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

A whoosh of air crackled through the receiver, probably coming from Jaebum’s flaring nostrils.

_“You never want to talk about it.”_

“Then stop asking me.” Jinyoung cut the conversation short, hearing the voice of one of the hostesses calling over the loud speaker for first class passengers to board the plane. 

“I need to go now, Jae. I will call you when I get back, as promised.”

Jaebum sighed, bidding Jinyoung a safe flight.

* * *

The plane seats smelled of weathered leather, sunlight filtering from the small window by Jinyoung’s side. He had a book opened on his knees, yet he was lost looking upon the bright blue sky mellowed by white, floating clouds. Travelling always instilled in him a feeling of peace, like everything was far away from him, all his problems left somewhere on earth while he was sailing through the heavens. 

Jinyoung couldn’t say he was totally unhappy with his life. He had a good job, something he didn’t fully dislike (that’s what he tells himself) and that yielded him an enviable return. He was quite handsome and knew how to take care of his appearance. He had a house with a big garden and a room where he could store all of his books. 

Many dreamt of a life like Park Jinyoung’s one, rich CEO of an affirmed business company. He could own everything he wished for; nothing was out of his reach. 

But as he leaned his head against the cold window, eyes half lidded as he stared at a flock of ducks flying not too far from the plane, he was left to wonder where he went wrong for things to end up as they had. 

It was probably due to the fact that he could never stand up to his parents, never open up to them about who he was, what he dreamed about, what he wanted – what he _needed_. Jinyoung had built this inner cage for everything that was _himself_ and that could potentially go against his parents’ desires and expectations. He had to paint himself pretty for them, had to conform to society and shush the voice that would nag at his brain each day. 

_This is not you; open your eyes Jinyoung._

He had his eyes wide open now: both his parents were six feet underground and he had a company to lead while he was still twenty-six. 

Jinyoung had married a rich woman, someone he didn’t love. They had met during a board meeting in Busan. Her name is Yeojin. She was all positive energy and designer bags. Jinyoung’s dad had recently died, a heart failure that had left him motionless on their vacation home’s floor. The Park’s family company had suffered a huge blow due to the nefarious happenstance, and Jinyoung knew what would secure the business a safe place. 

A marriage. 

And just like that, Park Jinyoung, twenty-five years-old and fresh out of Business School, sealed the deal with a woman he had barely known anything about. The wedding was something spectacular, a ceremony out of a fairytale – it was mostly to quell Jinyoung’s mother’s anguish over her husband's death, a way for her to keep herself occupied pondering over which tone of lilac would fit best the bridesmaid’s dresses. 

The bride was dressed in white, light-blue bell flowers raining from her hands, matching Jinyoung’s suit. She looked ethereal, a true princess like no others. And yet, Jinyoung’s heart felt as still as a tomb stone, not a stray beat nor a rush of blood that should have shook the awaiting groom. The only feeling he could pinpoint in his chest was how his stomach sunk lower and lower, taking his guts with it, his teeth bared in a fond smile that hid the way his thoughts were dragging around his head chanting that _That was it, there was no turning back_.

Despite the beautiful wedding, despite the joy of finally seeing his son married, Jinyoung’s mother couldn’t get by any longer without her husband by her side. And just like that, she passed away a year later, broken hearted and with her weeping son at the feet of her bed. 

The sound of a distant rumble had Jinyoung open his eyes. The plane was slowly starting its descent, hostesses and stewards flocking around, making sure each passenger had their seatbelt on. 

Jinyoung swept his gaze upon the approaching scenery, tall skyscrapers jutting from what looked like the city center. If his problems had seemed so far away not too long before, they now felt like ghastly hands wrapping around his neck, making his vision go hazy.

* * *

The airport was crowded, business people and tourists alike flocking by the baggage reclaim area, hurriedly picking up their stuff before scurrying away. 

Jinyoung took his time. Once he found his bag, he made his way towards the exit, his eyes taking in all the signs written entirely in English. He had studied it in Business School, practiced it as best as he could, but he still felt inadequate when it came to keeping up an articulate conversation with any native speaker. Because of this, Jinyoung had been feeling especially tense about this flight to LA. However, as the head of the Park company, he reasoned that it would have been better for him to take care of this particular meeting himself.

He was well out into the main hall, families reuniting and lovers hugging, when he spotted his own name scribbled hurriedly in what looked like in unsure _hangul_ on a piece of paper held barely above the crowd. Jinyoung blinked, feet stopping in their tracks. He ran a hand through his hair, making his way towards whoever had come to pick him up. 

An elderly couple stepped aside, letting a much younger man pop right in front of Jinyoung. A glimmer of blond hair distracted him momentarily, making him almost lose sight of what he would describe as one of the most charming smiles he had ever seen. 

“Mr. Park?” The man addressed him in English. 

Jinyoung nodded, smiling as they shook hands in greeting. He braced himself, whipping out the best accent he could muster. 

“Yes. Nice to meet you…” He tilted his head to the side, waiting for a name.

“Mark Tuan.” He replied. “May I help you?” He pointed to the luggage sitting next to Jinyoung’s feet. But before he could give an answer, Mark was already reaching out to take it by the handle, lifting it with ease. 

Jinyoung thanked him, following him outside and in the direction of the parking area. 

“Welcome to LA, Mr. Park.” Mark said, while Jinyoung was busy taking in the scenery outside the airport. Palm trees were standing tall against the bright blue sky, stray clouds rolling lazily above their heads. 

“Call me Jinyoung, please. _Mr. Park_ makes me feel much too old.” Jinyoung couldn’t bear how being addressed with the title he had for so long associated with his father made him feel. It was like trying to fill shoes far too big for him; it made him feel lost, out of his depth. 

Mark chuckled, placing the heavy baggage in the trunk of a black car. 

“ _Jinyoung_ , then.”

* * *

The drive to the company building wasn’t as peaceful as Jinyoung would have imagined. Roads in the US were at least twice as wide as the ones he was used to. Cars were speeding next to them at an impressive speed, some drivers clearly too taken by tasks other than actually _driving_. 

“We’re almost there.” Mark’s soft voice resonated inside the quiet car. 

Jinyoung turned his head towards the driver, taking in once again the blond hair that he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of. 

“Wonderful.” He smiled, subtly taking in Mark’s tanned cheekbones. Everything about the other man screamed _Born and raised in LA_ , yet he didn’t act as Jinyoung would have imagined any American to act. He wasn’t loud, nor did he make inappropriate comments or questions. On the contrary, there was a kind of shyness to him that had him keep his eyes lowered each time Jinyoung tried to have a small conversation with him. 

Once the scenery started to change from beach mansions with view on the ocean, to tall buildings standing out against the clear sky, Jinyoung could feel a slight anxiousness stir in his stomach. Until that moment he had no problems communicating with the man sitting beside him: Jinyoung understood almost everything and had no problems making himself understood. But they exchanged at best three sentences, commenting the weather and his flight. Jinyoung knew that having to keep up a business confrontation was something else entirely. 

Mark parked in front of a fancy entrance hall, telling Jinyoung that they had reached their destination. 

“You can ask the secretary about the meeting room. She will tell you where to go. I will make sure to leave your baggage at the main desk, too.” 

Jinyoung bowed, thanking the other for his help. He was a bit reluctant stepping away from the car and through the looming glass doors. Mark gave him a sense of safety that was hard to ignore; his calm disposition was exactly what could help Jinyoung in that moment. 

However, he had to act like the adult he was – the adult he had to become – and eventually he stepped foot inside the big, well-lit hall. A young lady welcomed him warmly, showing him to the conference room, which was already full with men in polished suits, sipping on their coffees. Jinyoung had to straighten his shoulders, tiredness from his thirteen hours flight making them slump over. He smiled politely at everyone, shaking hands and introducing himself. 

When he sat down, the meeting began. The heads of each department introduced themselves, the conversation flowing quite easily inside Jinyoung’s head. Things got more complicated when graphs were shown, middle-aged men rambling on using words that had him furrow his eyebrows. Jinyoung was starting to have a hard time, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. He could feel sweat matting his back, the leather chair only worsening his bursts of heat. 

All of a sudden, one of the people sitting around the table turned to smile at Jinyoung. The man had quite an imposing beard on his chin, making him look older than he probably was. He opened his mouth to inquire something, but Jinyoung was so out of it he blinked in confusion. He crossed and uncrossed his legs, wetting his lips.

“Could… Could you please repeat that?” Jinyoung could hear his Korean accent slipping in between every word. 

This time he was able to understand the question, so he tried to answer as best as he could – the trick was to _fake it_. He put on his best business facade, rattling off what his thoughts about the collaboration between their two companies were.

When someone else asked him another question, Jinyoung felt a little more confident. Things went on for some time until the head of the company did one last speech. Jinyoung’s tongue was dry against the roof of his mouth, a contrast to his sweaty palms resting on his knees. 

There was a pause, and then a hand gently laid on his shoulder, making him tense up. 

“He’s saying how he’s looking forward to working with the Parks. Please, excuse our boss, when he is tired he starts to eat his own words.” 

Jinyoung glanced behind his back, catching a familiar head of blond hair. Mark had a half smile on his face, his head tilted to the side and poised next to his ear. What surprised Jinyoung the most though, was how the man had just spoken to him in fluent Korean, voice low and steady.

Jinyoung didn’t have the time in that moment to contemplate how Mark had even entered the room without him noticing, so he smiled at the company chief standing at the far end of the elongated, glass table. He thanked him, saying how he couldn’t wait to work together and the meeting was finally dismissed. 

“How did the meeting go?” Mark stood in front of Jinyoung, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. 

“To be honest, it was quite tiring.” Jinyoung awkwardly massaged his sore shoulders. “Thanks for helping me out. As you could tell I was having a hard time.”

Mark shook his head. “I think you did great. You were great.” 

Jinyoung stared at the man, who had his eyes cast downwards on the carpeted floor. “How come didn’t you tell me that you could speak Korean?”

Since that morning, when Mark had come to pick him up at the airport, the two of them had conversed entirely in English. Jinyoung wasn’t mad, he was in America and he knew he had to conform to the native language. Yet, he wondered. 

Mark shrugged his shoulders, sucking his lips in. He didn’t say anything for some time, busy office workers strutting up and down the hallway they were standing in. Just when he opened his mouth to say something, Jinyoung’s ringtone went off, his phone vibrating in his pocket. He excused himself, finding a secluded corner. 

“Ah, Jinyoung!” Mark called out to him, hand grabbing him by the hem of his jacket. “Do you, perhaps, want to get something to drink later?” 

Jinyoung smiled, warmth spreading in his chest. 

“Yes. Why not?”

Mark sighed, nodding his head and releasing his hold on Jinyoung’s suit. With that, the dark haired man found an isolated spot right beside a window. The view was spectacular, the vast ocean visible right over some high, metallic buildings. He brought his phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

_“Hello, dear.”_

Jinyoung exhaled quietly, massaging his temples. 

_“Hope your flight went well.”_

“Yes, I’ve already discussed with the head of the com— ” He didn’t get to finish his explanation, that his wife cut him off. 

_“Yeah, wonderful, ummm… Hear me out, dear. I need you to send me some important documents when you have time. Can you do that for me, honey pie?”_

A storm of seagulls flew right past the window, white feathers catching the sun rays.

“... sure.” Jinyoung mumbled. He suddenly felt wiped of even the small residue of energy he had.

_“Great! Have a good day!”_

“... mhm.” He was ready to end the call, when Yeojin interrupted him once more.

_“Oh and, dear?”_

“Yeah?” Jinyoung turned around, leaning his back against the large window. 

_“I love you.”_ She almost sounded bored, her usual spark of cheeriness lost somewhere in those three words. 

They said them to each other a lot. It was the kind of mechanism for which, if you said something out loud just enough, then not only the people around you would believe it, but you would start to believe it too. And yet, whenever Jinyoung uttered those words, they tasted bitter and fake on his tongue, actually making everything seem that less real to his eyes.

He stared a little longer at his shoes, before he sluggishly lifted his head. His sight fell on Mark, who was chatting away with a colleague. 

“Love you too.” He said back. 

And the line went dead.

* * *

Apparently, getting something to drink with Mark meant getting to know people from the LA company, too. Once Jinyoung was done with his phone call, they headed to a coffee shop placed at the ground floor of the building. The place was big, soft chairs lining the walls and scattered around small, black lacquered tables. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries wafted in the air, making Jinyoung suddenly realize how hungry he was. His stomach growled, Mark chuckling beside him.

“Long day, uh?” 

He was speaking korean once again. Jinyoung couldn’t quite understand why, but the way Mark spoke, in short, almost breathless sentences, made him sound a lot more fragile than he looked. 

“You have no idea.” Jinyoung replied. 

“Here.” Mark presented him with a cup of coffee, that seemed to materialize out of thin air. “It’s on me.” 

Jinyoung gratefully accepted it with a smile, thinking how he could do with a whole litre of coffee if he wanted to dispel the heaviness pulling at his limbs. He chatted for a while with Mark, the two talking a little about themselves. The latter was older than Jinyoung, born and raised in Los Angeles - proudly so, if one took in the big smile with which he talked about his city. His family was big, and he had been doing his job for almost three years, now. 

“It’s more of a springboard for me.” He had said, thumbs pressing on the table, picking up stray sugar grains. “I’d like to work in the music industry.”

Jinyoung took in the way Mark’s eyes brightened up considerably when he talked about his dream. His excitement had him break into a smile. 

“Best of luck then. I hope you’ll make it.” 

Mark fiddled with his fingers, shooting an embarrassed smile at Jinyoung. 

“Thank you. You didn’t tell me about—” 

All of a sudden a muscular arm snaked around Mark’s neck, making him splutter and almost fall off his chair. 

“Here you are! Hogging the new comer all to yourself, I see!” 

The man wasn’t that much taller than Mark, his blond hair almost albescent against the light filtering into the room. He was dressed smartly, a dark suit and a silver plaque pinned to the pocket of his jacket. Jinyoung squinted at the writing on it, which was in Chinese. 

“Nice to meet you Mr. Park, I’m Jackson Wang. I am in charge of the international affairs branch in our company.” He vigorously took Jinyoung’s hand in his, shaking it with fervor. 

“Nice to meet you.” Jinyoung found himself overwhelmed by the other man’s ways, his boisterous voice a stark contrast to Mark’s calm tone. 

Mark shot Jackson a glare, shaking his arm off his shoulders. He reproached him for his loud manners, but Jinyoung could see a grin pulling at his lips. Just like that, he marveled at the two, who were conversing in a confusing mix of English and what sounded like Mandarin. Jackson pointed quite a few times in Jinyoung’s direction, clearly trying to be subtle but failing spectacularly. Jinyoung frowned, Jackson detecting his discomfort almost instantly. He bowed at him in apology, sneakily pinching Mark’s arm. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come off as rude. My friend _Markie_ , here, is just being a bit of a headass.” Jackson said, bowing once more before excusing himself and heading towards the counter. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Park Jinyoung!”

Jackson’s voice echoed inside the room, people around them unexpectedly unbothered by this. They must have been used to his antics. 

“Ummm…” Jinyoung blinked a few times, shifting his eyes from the man in front of him to the one who was now leaning over the counter to talk to a petit barista. 

Mark sighed, raking a hand through his hair. 

“That was Jackson… I’m really sorry for…” He made a vague gesture with his hands. “You know.”

Jinyoung shook his head, taking in the way that Jackson was making a small group of people flocking all around him laugh.

“Don’t worry, he seems like a funny guy.”

“If you ever need help with anything and I’m not around, you can always ask him.” Mark mumbled. 

Jinyoung smiled at the childish way Mark spoke about the other man, looking like a five year-old child having a dispute with his best friend. 

The evening carried on with Jinyoung eventually being driven to his hotel and getting to crash on the soft mattress in his room. He laid unmoving for what seemed like forever, the clock on the bedside table ticking away. He must have drifted off at some point, one of his shoes still dangling from his foot, when his cellphone blinked with a new message.

“Ugh…” Jinyoung grunted, lifting himself off the comforter and looking around the room in search of his phone. He spotted it carelessly thrown on a table by the entrance door. The journey from the bed to his pinging device felt like it took forever; however, once Jinyoung saw the message that was lighting up his screen, he couldn’t stop the smile taking over his features. 

_This is my number in case you need to contact me. See you tomorrow at work.  
Mark _

He saved the number in his contact list, deciding to get ready for bed – as alluring as crashing again on the bed sounded, Jinyoung knew he had to act like the better person and _at least_ take a shower before doing so. 

While he wrestled his legs out of his pants, a clinking sound caught his attention. He cast his eyes to the floor, catching sight of a small object, glimmering in contrast to the white tiled floor. He crouched down, picking the silver ring up and placing it in the palm of his hand. He stared at it with a sort of heaviness settling on his chest, before he put it in the back pocket of his pants once again. 

That night, no dreams visited his tired mind.

* * *

Adapting to the rhythm of the West Coast took Jinyoung some time. The jet lag kept on making him drowsy during the most inappropriate hours, even keeping him up at night on the first couple of days. He eventually got used to it, the sun rising over the vast ocean a vision his hotel room guaranteed him each morning. 

Days at the office weren’t as taxing as he had expected, everyone treating him with the utmost respect and admiration. Jinyoung got stopped in the hallways more than once a day by flocks of secretaries wanting to know about him and his life in Korea. He always kept his answers short, but polite, never revealing too much about his _situation_. 

With time, he even got to know Jackson better, the man’s outgoing personality growing on him. From what Jinyoung could see, he was a hard worker, someone people could count on to get a job done efficiently. He also possessed a natural charm that couldn’t be ignored. Jinyoung had to be honest, but he didn’t know many people who could make him laugh like Jackson did; looking at him sometimes reminded the former of an overexcited puppy. 

And then, there was Mark. The two of them had been meeting every evening after work, to talk about their day. Jinyoung was surprised at the easiness with which he could express himself with the other, speaking honestly about so many things he would have otherwise kept shut, if he had still been in Seoul. Despite his aloof appearance, Mark was a warm, understanding person. Much like Jackson, he hardly batted an eyelid when others asked him for help. Jinyoung himself had been going to Mark whenever he needed clarification about some documents he had to read or some words he couldn’t quite grasp. The more they spent time together, the more Jinyoung wanted to stay close to him, basking in the sense of calmness Mark exuded. 

It was a late afternoon, when Jackson approached Jinyoung, seemingly wanting to just chat a bit. 

“So, how much longer will you be staying in LA?” Jackson asked, munching on an organic granola bar. 

“It greatly depends on how much longer my presence will be needed by your boss. If I had to take a guess though, I’d say one more week.”

Jackson hummed, leaning over a nearby table. “The deal is almost sealed though. From what I saw, we will soon be working under the great Mr. Park.” He waggled his eyebrows, making Jinyoung snort.

“What great things are you expecting me to do, then?”

“I dunno. More vacation days and a private gym inside the building, perhaps?”

“How about double the working hours and a stricter dress code?” Jinyoung eyed Jackson’s poor choice of a tie for that day. He played with it a little, noticing little oranges drawn on it. 

“Hey! This is a present!” Jackson gasped, taking a step back. He collided with someone who was passing by though, sending papers flying everywhere. 

Mark stared at the documents he had so carefully stacked, now scattered all over the floor. He sighed, side eyeing Jackson who was fast in crouching down and picking them all up again.

“Sorry, sorry! Here you go, Markie.” He patted Mark’s head, making the elder sigh once again. When his eyes met Jinyoung’s ones though, he smiled shyly. 

“Hey.” He said in a low voice.

Jinyoung had to repress a shiver from running up his spine.

“Hello.” He replied, taking in the way the sun was reflecting off of his figure. 

“Jinyoung, you have yet to visit the city right?” Jackson’s voice cut into the thick atmosphere like a knife. He threw himself at Mark, shaking his shoulders. “I have a great idea then! How about Mark here, takes you on a tour?”

Jinyoung looked between Jackson and Mark, words failing him. 

“Jackson.” Mark tone was a clear warning. 

However, the other continued speaking undismayed. “He’ll be here for another week at best, you could show him around!” 

Mark murmured something in a language that Jinyoung interpreted being Chinese, and let his head wrap around the suggestion Jackson had just made. He would have loved to visit the big city, experiencing the thrill of it. 

“I’d love to.” Jinyoung bravely ventured, moving closer to the other two. 

Mark shifted his focus from his best friend to him, eyes showing his surprise. 

“I mean, I always wanted to see LA, and being shown around by someone who knows the city is a great opportunity…” Jinyoung suddenly felt the need to backtrack. “But it’s totally okay if there’s not enough time, or if you have other things to think abo—”

“Okay.” Mark mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you around.”

Jinyoung breath caught in his throat and he had to swallow it back. “Thank you.”

Mark offered him a lopsided smile, while Jackson squealed in excitement. 

The kind of situation that Jinyoung had got himself into though didn’t fully hit him until, on Thursday night, he found a message on his phone telling him to be ready by 10am on the following morning. That night, Jinyoung had trouble sleeping, the temperature of his body going from too cold to too hot in a matter of minutes. 

He woke up just in time, the alarm clock on the hotel room’s bedside table displaying a luminescent _nine o’clock_ on it. While he was getting ready, he received a text from Mark, saying how he’d be there to pick him up soon enough. Jinyoung could feel a smile making its way on his lips, and he did nothing to stop it from staying there even while he got ready for the day. 

He settled on some casual clothes, a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Right when he was getting off the elevator and stepping into the hotel hall, he spotted Mark by the entrance, playing around with a snapback in his hands. The blond lifted his head and caught sight of Jinyoung, making his way towards him. He waved timidly, putting the hat back on his head. 

“Hey, ready to go?” Mark vaguely gestured towards what Jinyoung recognized being his car, parked right in front of the hotel. 

“Yeah.” Jinyoung stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air washing over him. “Let’s go.”

While in the car, Mark asked him if he had any place in particular that he wanted to visit. Jinyoung had thought about it the previous night, but all he could come up were the usual tourists’ spots. In all honesty, he wanted to see the city through the eyes of someone who lived there, so he told Mark as much. 

The elder hummed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Then, he smiled, saying he knew just the place he would have liked. For some reason, Jinyoung’s heart skipped a beat hearing that; the simple concept of the other taking him somewhere _Jinyoung himself_ would have enjoyed, made him feel warm. 

They drove for quite a long time, the music blaring from the radio playing all the latest American hits. Jinyoung could recognize some of the most famous songs; also, he would often catch Mark lightly humming along to some of them, head bobbing to the rhythm.  
The sun was high in the sky, palm trees dancing in the breeze, when they pulled up right by an unbeaten path. 

“Here we are.” Mark said, turning to pick up a bag from the back seat. 

Jinyoung gazed out of the window, taking in the scenery. Small shrubs were dotting the side of the road, a stretch of yellow flowers and grassy turf leading into soft looking sand. Rocks the color of raw copper sloped gently to dive right into the vast ocean, its waves crashing steadily against them. Jinyoung opened the car door, stepping foot onto the dry terrain. 

“Where are we?” He asked in a whisper, taken aback by the landscape unfolding before his very eyes. 

“This is one of my favorite places.” Mark murmured, not wanting to break the almost magical atmosphere. “Not many people come down here. My sisters used to take me here all the time when we were younger.” There was a hint of nostalgia in his voice. 

“It’s breathtaking.” Jinyoung couldn’t tear his eyes off of the glimmering horizon. 

Mark didn’t say anything for quite some time, until he informed Jinyoung that there was a place where they could grab something to eat, not too far from where they were. So, they walked what little distance they had to cover, until they reached a cozy, little wooden hut that had been tinted white just like the soft clouds floating above their heads. They both ordered something, deciding to find a spot right by the beach where they could consume it. 

Jinyoung pointed to a lonely bench – a wooden log carved to make it look like one –, plopping down on it. Mark sat down next to him, fidgeting a bit, trying to find a comfortable position. He eventually settled, biting down on his sandwich with a satisfied expression. 

“Mark?” Jinyoung could sweat his lips had moved on their own accord. 

“Mhm?” 

“I have been meaning to ask you… when did you learn to speak Korean?” He had been burning to ask that question for days now, and somehow the rumbling of the ocean lulled him into a sense of security. Somehow, he felt like in that moment, they could talk about anything.

“Well, I have studied in Korea for a couple of years. My family had to move there because of my dad’s job.” Mark swallowed down his food. “It was a good experience.” 

Jinyoung nodded. “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me right away that you knew my language.” 

“Like I said, I don’t know.” Mark shrugged, scuffing the sole of his shoe on the glimmering sand. “Your accent is cute…” He muttered while taking another bite of his sandwich. 

Jinyoung chuckled, kicking a small seashell. “Yours too.” 

Mark pulled a face. “My Korean is really rusty. And I’m not that great at it to begin with.” 

“That’s not true.” Jinyoung bumped his shoulder against Mark’s one, trying to catch his eyes. “You’re good. I can tell you worked hard on it during the years that you spent in my country.”

Mark turned his head, locking eyes with Jinyoung. There was something in his expression; he looked grateful and relieved, but the tightness around his lips gave away more. 

They resumed eating in relative silence, the sound of waves crashing against shore blending with the cries of seagulls passing by. 

“So, no girlfriend to take out on days like these?” Jinyoung ventured, wanting to resume talking to Mark. He went with the first thing that popped in his mind. 

Mark chewed on the last bite of his sandwich, thoughtfully staring at the stained piece of wrapping paper in his hand. 

“No.” His answer sounded curt, almost a spit in the blowing breeze. 

Jinyoung was taken aback, words dying on his lips. However, before he could collect his thoughts, Mark added in a lighter tone: “What about you?” 

All of a sudden, Jinyoung didn’t want to continue their chat anymore. Yet, he couldn’t just drop the whole subject altogether, so he waved his hand in a dismissive way. 

“It’s… complicated.” But he didn’t stop at that. “Work takes up a lot of my time. It doesn’t leave me much time for many things.” 

His mind blacked out, images of Yeojin and his mother lovingly staring at them at their wedding the only things he could see. He crumpled the paper in his hands. He didn’t add anything more. 

_I have been married for years._

_I don’t love her._

_I hate my job._

“Your parents must be proud of you.”

Jinyoung snapped out of his descent into those dark thoughts that had blinded him of the view in front of his eyes. Mark was leaning back against the makeshift bench, arms stretched out in front of him, almost as he was trying to enclose the whole ocean in his hands. His blond hair was mussed by the nipping breeze, and Jinyoung realized how gentle the slope of Mark’s nose looked. For a fraction of a second, the sky appeared bluer.

“I hope so.” Jinyoung exhaled, lungs constricting painfully.

Mark turned around, smiling at him. “Why are you so unsure? I bet they love you.” 

A seagull screeched somewhere in the distance, its call echoing in the air. Jinyoung smiled ruefully, casting his eyes to the ground. Small ants were marching in an orderly row, disappearing inside the crack of a rock. 

“They…” Jinyoung’s crumpled the wrapping paper even more. “They’re not here anymore.”

It took Mark longer than expected to grasp the concept, but when he did, his face morphed into a look of sadness. 

“I’m– I’m sorry, Jinyoung. I had no idea…”

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have…” Jinyoung inhaled sharply, words getting stuck in his throat. He didn’t know how to continue when Mark was looking at him like that. 

The sun was slowly descending from the high dome of the sky, gently gliding towards the horizon. Its rays reflected off of the dark waters, spreading far and out. 

“So, um, do you want to go somewhere else?”

Mark was standing right in front of Jinyoung, looking down at him with soft eyes. He offered him his hand, palm up. Jinyoung hesitated a bit before he accepted the help and got up. The two of them walked back to the car, followed by the softening sounds of the ocean. 

Upon Mark’s insistence, Jinyoung decided on another place to head to. This time, they agreed on driving somewhere more tourist-aimed. They eventually settled on walking down LA’s neon-lit streets, Mark pointing out all the interesting buildings and stores. The red and pink hues painting the sky slowly turned darker, until all that could be seen was the night sky illuminated by the city’s blinding lights. Jinyoung suggested they ate something before heading back home, and Mark agreed. They chose someplace quiet, where they could unwind after such a long day.

Mark was telling Jinyoung stories about his high school days, how he would love going to the skate park and hang out with his friends. From his part, Jinyoung talked to Mark about his passion for reading. They even found a common passion in movies and comic books.

Jinyoung had just calmed down from laughing at one particularly funny story about Jackson, when he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.” He sighed out, playing with the cap of his water bottle.

Mark smiled sweetly at him. “I’m glad.” His voice was barely over a whisper. 

“It’s been ages since I last could do these kind of things.” Jinyoung vaguely pointed at the small restaurant they were sitting in. “Have fun without having to think about business or contracts or anything like that. Just, being me and acting like my own age.” 

Jinyoung realized that what he had said must have sounded somewhat strange, so he hurried to explain further. “I had to grow up fast, take care of things out of my scope of comprehension. I feel like I missed out on so many things… so many wasted years.”

He was still nervously playing around with the bottle cap, when a hand laid over his, making him stop. Jinyoung looked up into Mark’s face, the telltale of a blush wanting to spread over his face. He had no idea why he had to go and tell all those things to a man that had been a literal stranger not too long ago. 

“I think…” For the first time, Jinyoung realized how melodious Mark’s voice sounded. “... that it’s time for you to take those years back, then.”

Jinyoung couldn’t contain the huge smile that bloomed onto his face, laughter spilling from his lips. He knew his eyes were crinkling up, and in other circumstances he would have felt self conscious, but right then and there nothing but utter happiness was filling him.

“Yes. You’re right.” Jinyoung breathed out. He realized how the apples of Mark’s cheeks were red too, as he smiled back at him.

The day came to a close a little after midnight, when Mark dropped Jinyoung off at his hotel, bidding him a goodnight and _sweet dreams_. Jinyoung might have scoffed to hide the blush on his face. 

And if he had thought the whole day had been special and something he could hardly ever forget, Jinyoung had yet to meet Mark at work the following day. Two tickets got pushed into his hands, making his eyebrows shoot up. 

“What are these?”

Mark looked fidgety as he adjusted the tie around his neck. “They’re two tickets for the Dodgers’ next big game. I used to go to the stadium with my dad all the time when I was a little kid. I don’t know, I thought you would like to go, too.” He shrugged.

Jinyoung blinked at the small pieces of papers resting in his palm.

He agreed with an overly excited nod of his head.

* * *

_“A baseball game.”_

Jaebum’s stale voice crackled across the room, a confused frown visible even on the screen of Jinyoung’s laptop. The two had just finished taking care of some business related assignments, both of them in their pajamas and reading glasses; the elder even had his Bart Simpson slippers on. Jaebum had no reason to be dressed in such a sloppy manner, though, seeing as it was almost noon where he was. He simply had a day off.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Jinyoung busied himself with freeing his bed from all the paperwork scattered on it.

_“Jinyoung, you don’t even like sports.”_

“That’s not true!” He exclaimed. “Remember in highschool when I went to all the swim team’s relays?”

Jaebum blinked slowly at him, unimpressed expression still on.

_“Yeah, because I was in it.”_

“Small detail.” Jinyoung waved his hand, checking his reflection in the laptop’s webcam. His hair was sticking up every which way, and he could already see his five o’clock shadow. “And do you remember when I went to the fencing team nationals, too?”

 _“Because at the time your crush was a fencer? Hard to forget, if you ask me.”_ Jaebum mockingly shrugged, Jinyoung glaring at him. He ignored his comment though, a yawn taking over his features. He stretched his arms over his head, looking at the clock on the bottom right of the screen. It was way past midnight for him. 

“Okay, goodnight, I better head off to bed. It’s an early day tomorrow.” 

Jaebum didn’t say anything for some time, tapping his hand on his bent knee. Eventually, not to risk Jinyoung ending the call in his face – which had happened before – he resolved himself to say something. 

_“Don’t do anything stupid.”_ He said. It sounded cliché, unoriginal at best. Yet, it was all he could come up with. 

Jinyoung pressed the _End call_ button without as much as a word of assent. He didn’t need his best friend to act like some nagging mother. _He_ was supposed to be the fussing mother in their friendship. 

He may also have been a little irritated with what his friend was getting at. Mark was his friend. They could hang out if they wanted to, and Jinyoung could go see a baseball game with him if he so pleased. He was in a foreign country, no one he knew there, and he intended to make the best of his experience. 

The day of the actual game, Mark showed up in front of Jinyoung’s hotel with his usual car. He had a blue hat on his head which sported the Dodgers’ logo. There was a smirk on his face, as Jinyoung playfully took it from him and placed it on his own head. 

“So, ready for the big game?” Mark asked, starting the car. 

Jinyoung nodded, stretching his legs in his seat. 

“Yes, but I will need some coffee first.”

They stopped at a coffee shop not too far from the hotel, and got back on the road. Jinyoung was sipping on his hot beverage, enjoying the landscape rolling by outside the window, when Mark dropped a plastic bag on his legs. 

“What’s this?” Jinyoung asked, curiously peering inside it. 

“Look inside.” Mark was smiling that full teethed smile of his, the one that had Jinyoung’s heart pound embarrassingly louder. 

Jinyoung held his breath, taking out of the bag what he recognized being a shirt. He turned it around in his hands, taking in the dark blue words sewn into the front of it. The word _Dodgers_ was proudly sticking out against the white cloth, the contrast reminding Jinyoung of Los Angeles’ blue skies and their clouds. 

“It’s my older sister’s. She told me that she isn’t interested in this stuff anymore, so she said that I could have it.” Mark blurted out in a rush. 

Jinyoung hummed, biting his lip to stifle a laugh. 

“You do know there’s still the label on it, right?”

“What!” Mark turned, his cheeks and the tips of his ears colored a deep red. 

A car honked from behind them, the blond cursing under his breath and sending an apologetic wave the irritated driver’s way. 

Meanwhile, Jinyoung had been totally unable to control his laughter. He was bent in half, his cheeks hurting and eyes watering. 

“Please…” Mark huffed beside him, voice barely over a whisper.

Jinyoung dried his tears with the back of his hand, straightening his back against the car seat. The smell of coffee was still lingering inside the vehicle, air conditioning whirring at full blast. 

“Oh God, my face hurts.” Jinyoung said, voice raspy. 

“If it’s so funny for you, then I guess I can just take this back.” Mark reached out for the shirt still laying on Jinyoung’s thighs. The latter slapped it away, clutching the uniform to his chest. 

“Hey! This is mine now.” He smiled at Mark, tilting his head. “After all the troubles you went through to buy it for me…” Another giggle escaped his lips.

Mark’s eyes softened, mouth curling upwards. 

“Will you wear it?”

“Of course.” Jinyoung replied, adjusting the stolen cap over his head. 

Once they reached the stadium, Jinyoung was baffled by the sheer amount of people walking across the street and through the entrance gates. Mark told him that it was mostly because the home team was going up against the San Diego _Padres_ : they apparently had an historic rivalry. Jinyoung marveled at how the fans were exactly like he saw in movies, spongy gloves and beer almost in everyone’s hands. 

“This way.” Mark said, grabbing Jinyoung by the wrist and leading him towards their seats. The two were just behind the home plate, having a good view of the whole field. For a moment Jinyoung wondered how much Mark had paid for those seats. 

“You want anything?” Mark asked him, pointing at a guy yelling about hot dogs and cold drinks. 

“A coke.” Jinyoung replied. The elder nodded and made his way towards the vendor. He was back shortly after with his hands full with two drinks and two hot dogs. He handed one to Jinyoung stating how if he didn’t want it, he could just give it back to him. Jinyoung smiled, thanking Mark nonetheless and deciding to give a bite to the overly greasy treat. 

Right before the start of the game, the American anthem played at full blast, everyone standing up around Jinyoung. He felt overwhelmed and confused for a moment, not knowing if he should imitate everyone or just stay in his place. But while he was wondering this, the music switched to deafening cheers and the game started. People were screaming to the top of their lungs – Jinyoung was sure he could make out even some profanities. All in all, it was entertaining, each at-bat and in-the-field making him cheer along or gasp out loud. He couldn’t believe it, but he was having the time of his life. 

During the fourth set, a particularly risky action had Jinyoung stand at the edge of his seat. He watched as the runner on third base almost run into the pitcher, but slid past him in a miraculous slide. Jinyoung, like everyone else around him, jumped up, pumping his fists. Mark yelled out in excitement, and the dark haired man could only grab his forearm and bounce happily with him. 

The inning finished with an extra point for the Dodgers, the crowd’s cheers slowly dying out. The half-time break was announced and Jinyoung stretched out his legs.

“Having fun?” Mark asked, handing him his half empty cup of Pepsi Max. 

Jinyoung thanked him and sipped on the sugary beverage. He pulled a face, making Mark laugh at him. Really too sugary. 

“I am.” Jinyoung eventually said, realizing how much of an understatement it was. He was having _a lot_ of fun.

“That’s good.” Mark whispered with a cute, lopsided smile that had Jinyoung stare at his lips for far too long. 

Suddenly, the crowd started screaming once again. Jinyoung snapped out of his reverie, wondering if the half-time was already over. The players weren’t on the field though, so he furrowed his brows in confusion.

“What is going on?” 

His words died in his mouth though, when he followed Mark’s line of sight and saw himself on the big screen. More specifically, he saw himself _and_ Mark on the screen, the two of them in the middle of a big, red heart and the word _Kiss Cam_ right beside it.

Jinyoung opened and closed his mouth a couple of time, a blush rising on his cheeks. He covered his mouth with his hand in embarrassment, casting a quick glance at Mark. The blond was covering his whole face with his hands, yet the tips of his ears were too red for anyone to miss it. Jinyoung smiled, endeared by Mark’s shyness. He opened his mouth to say something, but a married couple sitting behind them caught his attention. The two were looking at Jinyoung, the lady smiling encouragingly at him. They must have been in their sixties, he thought.

And all of a sudden, he felt the color drain from his cheeks, and a heavy sense of dread settling on his heart. He swallowed down the knot in his throat, as he stared at Mark who was slowly removing his hands from his face, and tentatively looking his way. His lips curved upwards, Jinyoung mimicking him without much thought. The blond inched closer to him, mouthing a soft _Can I?_ , before he moved even closer. 

Jinyoung’s brain shortcircuited, heart pounding too hard and too loud in his chest. He wanted to scream, or cry. He wanted to stand up and yell at everyone to _stop staring_ ; he wanted to savor Mark’s lips even for a second. 

Once Mark was close enough, Jinyoung tipped his head to the side. He felt a pair of lips on his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth, but still not close enough. Mark lingered long enough to hear the shrill screams and cheers slowly die, before he moved away. 

He avoided Jinyoung’s eyes, going back to stare at his own shoes. Jinyoung could feel his pulse in his own ears, and his wedding ring in his back pocket.

* * *

The rest of the game went past in a blur of risky plays, noisy complaints from the crowd and a sound loss for the home team. Jinyoung could see the disappointment in the faces of the people around him, yet he felt like he was looking at them through a fogged up glass. His legs felt as if they could barely keep him upright, devoid of any strength or push. When Mark signalled him to stand up and follow him out of the stadium, Jinyoung mechanically went along with the most basic motions. Get up, walk, look to the ground. 

After the Kiss Cam incident, conversation between the two of them had died down to a basic, polite exchange. Jinyoung had completely closed up, refusing to speak more than it was actually needed, while Mark seamlessly made his way among the crowd, looking everywhere but at the man standing beside him. They made their way back to Mark’s car, driving towards the hotel. 

The silence was suffocating. Jinyoung opened his mouth a couple of times to try and say anything, but nothing ever came out. He cast fugitive glances at Mark’s blank expression, eventually settling on watching the scenery pass him by. Bushes of purple flowers were blooming close to many houses, people littering the sidewalks. He was staring at a teenage girl rolling by on a skateboard, when the car stopped. Jinyoung realized that they had arrived at his hotel, and Mark was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. 

“We’re here.” Mark’s voice was tentative, trembling at the edges. 

Jinyoung could feel his heart thump against his ribcage, lips quivering ever so slightly. “Thank you.” His voice was as weak as the first sprouts of grass in spring. 

Mark nodded, adding nothing. When Jinyoung found himself inside his hotel room, he caught his reflection in the big windows. He was still wearing the shirt Mark had given him; he even had the blue hat on his head. He stared at his reflection a little longer, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers. 

That night he sent a message to Jaebum telling him he’d be back in Korea in a matter of days. On a whim, he forwarded the same message to Yeojin, throwing his phone somewhere on the carpeted floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats profusely*
> 
> I'm so late... But this chapter was HARD to write.   
> Also, writer's block happened, but apparently I'm out of it!   
> So, enjoy this chapter! Next one will be kind of an epilogue :)

The following days at the company weren’t as light as the first ones. There was a thick atmosphere around Jinyoung and Mark, something that didn’t let them communicate as easily as they used to. Jackson caught up with the situation pretty fast, trying to lighten the mood with his quick humor. For the most part, it simply helped in making everything a little less awkward, but it didn’t make a big difference whatsoever. 

Eventually, Jinyoung received news about the successful acquisition of the LA company. One last meeting let him know that the full transaction had been completed, and that he could finally go back to Korea in two days. 

“You’re leaving, then.” 

Jinyoung was stepping out of the meeting room, shoulders sagged and the beginning of a headache pulsating at his temples. He lifted his eyes, catching sight of Jackson casually leaning against the wall. 

“Looks like it.” 

Jackson smiled sadly, placing a hand on Jinyoung’s forearm. “You’re officially Park Boss.”

Jinyoung scoffed, a small smile making its way on his lips. “Don’t you dare call me like that.”

“Your Majesty, Park Jinyoung? Park The Greatest— ” Jackson avoided the hand that was dangerously flying towards the back of his head. He released one of his high pitched giggles, throwing an arm around Jinyoung’s neck. He gave him a tight hug.

“We will miss you, man.”

“Mmm…” Jinyoung quizzically looked upwards. “Should I say I will miss you too?” 

Jackson laughed, tightening his hold on Jinyoung. “You know you will!”

“If you say so.” Jinyoung couldn’t contain the smile that spread over his features. Jackson knew how to lift the mood. 

“You should come to tonight’s get-together. It’s nothing fancy, really. Just a bunch of boring businessmen meeting in a high class bar, drinking away their stress.” Jackson mimicked sipping something from an invisible glass. “What do you say?”

Jinyoung wasn’t completely sure. He wasn’t a fan of alcohol, and he was worried about meeting Mark, too. It was one of his last nights in LA though, so he accepted Jackson’s offer. He wondered if he could use the night as a way for him to unwind and talk things out with Mark. It would have been a true shame to leave on such a bad note; Jinyoung wanted to thank the other for everything that he did for him during his stay. 

Mark had been like a light in the darkness, someone he could count on. Jinyoung was so used to people taking advantage of him simply because of his position, that it came as a surprise when Mark − and Jackson, too − didn’t ask anything in return for their kindness. 

Jinyoung spent the early evening closed in his hotel room, beginning to pack his bags. He opened all the drawers and even kneeled on the floor to look under the bed to make sure he wasn’t going to forget anything. When he opened the almost empty closet, something fell on the floor with a soft thud. A hat was laying at his feet, yellow stitches standing out against the deep blue of the fabric. Jinyoung picked it up, twirling it in his hands for a second too long, before he put it on his head. He eventually finished making sure the room was left as empty as he had found it, so he made his way into the bathroom to get ready for the night out.   
His eyes fell on his figure, looking back at him from the wide mirror over the sink. Jinyoung stared a little longer at the cap framing his dark hair, a small smile making its way over his face. He took it off, placing it by the sink without much care. 

When his phone buzzed with a new message from Jackson, Jinyoung was fully ready. The text contained the address of the bar they’d have to meet up at, followed by a page-long tirade on how excited the former was to unwind after a week spent inside a stifling office. 

A taxi drive later, Jinyoung was in front of the luxurious looking place. The bar was a lot more crowded than Jinyoung had expected. He could recognize people from the company, but there were some unknown faces too. Everyone was holding a drink in their hand, and from the glasses scattered over the various tables, Jinyoung could tell that some were well past their first one. 

Suddenly, Jackson appeared out of nowhere, big smile on his face and tie haphazardly undone. Jinyoung didn’t even get the time to familiarize himself with his surroundings, that he was already being dragged towards the counter placed in the middle of the room. It was like an island, its round shape allowing the two baristas in the middle to serve customers on each and every side. Jackson loudly asked for two drinks, whose names sounded terribly obscure to Jinyoung. When two tall glasses filled with clear liquid, ice and small herbs were placed in front of them, Jackson lifted one, grinning.

“To a bright future! And to our new boss!”

Jinyoung shook his head in mock disapproval, clinking his glass with Jackson’s. 

“Cheers!”

Jinyoung took small sips of his drink, while he amusedly watched Jackson downing half of his in one go. He leaned against the wooden bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure standing right on the other side of the counter. Their eyes met for quite a long moment. Mark looked tired, cheeks paler and more taut. His hair was swept back and away from his forehead, his tie gone and the first buttons of his shirt undone. Jinyoung didn’t divert his eyes. He kept on sipping his drink, tilting his head to the side. 

Maybe it was the stuffy air inside the bar, or maybe the faint lights making Mark’s feature appear sharper, but Jinyoung had the sheer impression that they were playing some sort of game. 

Mark called over the barista, ordering something. When two glasses of dark liquid were placed in front of him, the blond gulped one down, picking up the other. Their eye contact had yet to break.

Jinyoung could feel a slight shiver at the base of his spine, nervousness spreading to the tip of his fingers. Beside him, what was left of Jackson was only his empty glass, drops of condensation staining the tabletop. The music playing in the background was soft, a smooth melody that reverberated in the air. Jinyoung put his elbow on the counter, leaning his head on the palm of his head. He lifted his eyebrows, a silent question directed at Mark. The other stood up from his stool, making his way towards him. 

“Hey.” Jinyoung’s voice was a touch louder than a whisper. 

“Hey.” Mark slid the drink that he was still clutching in his hands across the table. “For you.”

Jinyoung glided his finger along the wet rim of the glass, catching a few stray drops. Neither said anything for what seemed the longest time, until Mark broke the silence.

“I wanted to apologize.”

The sentence put Jinyoung off, making him look up in surprise. 

“For what?”

“What happened the other day, at the game. I’m sorry, I— I shouldn’t have…” Mark ran a hand through his blond locks in a nervous manner, sucking his lips in. 

Jinyoung studied Mark’s slender fingers gliding seamlessly atop his head and down the nape of his neck, stalling at the ruffled collar of his shirt. He wasn’t sure about what kind of answer to give. Should he have acted indifferent, reassuring Mark that _that was really nothing_? Yet, even the mere thought sounded fake to Jinyoung. They both knew that there was something more to the almost kiss that happened at the baseball game, but directly facing it was a whole other story than simply dancing around it. 

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have.” Jinyoung sighed into his empty glass, ice cubes rattling against one another. He turned his head to the side, dark eyes catching Mark’s ones. “Do you regret it?”

The soft lights of the bar glimmered off of Mark’s tongue, which swiftly skirted over his bottom lip. His gaze was heavy, like a raincloud that Jinyoung could feel approach him with each breath. 

“No.” Mark voice was low and steady, quasi in sync with Jinyoung’s thrumming pulse. 

All of a sudden, they were sitting closer, thighs roughly touching. The people around them were forgotten, like stars blanketed by the morning sky. Mark’s face was inches from Jinyoung’s ear, puffs of air breezing over him. 

“Will you make me regret it?”

Jinyoung swallowed, alcohol making his vision blurry but his senses sharper. There was a hand gripping his thigh, a thumb drawing small circles in the fabric of his pants. He realized too late that the storm was already over them, a force too encompassing for him to resist. 

When they kissed in the cab, LA’s neon lights painted Mark’s dewy lips in all of Jinyoung’s favorite colors. The kiss tasted like nothing he would have imagined − cigarette smoke and salt −, and yet it felt so familiar on his tongue. Jinyoung felt like a cliff crumbling into the ocean, Mark’s arms tightening around his waist, gripping at his back like they were trying to tear off his clothes. Jinyoung murmured for him to wait, the cab’s worn out seats not the best thing to feel on his naked skin. Mark complied, staving off his most heated touches until they reached the door of Jinyoung’s hotel room. 

Once they slipped inside, Mark roughly pushed Jinyoung against the wooden door, kissing down his neck with hungry growls leaving his throat. He untucked the pristine white shirt from Jinyoung’s pants, his hands roaming the heated skin, leaving a buzzing trail behind. They were both panting, desperation oozing off of each one of their movements. 

Jinyoung hurriedly unbuttoned Mark’s shirt, letting the garment fall to the floor. He could feel the latter biting down on his collar bones, the teeth sinking into his skin painfully good. Mark’s hands shifted so they could grab at the back of Jinyoung’s thighs, pushing him with more insistence against the door. 

Jinyoung stifled back a moan, gripping at Mark’s biceps for support when he felt the elder lift him up off the floor. They stumbled past the entrance, one of Jinyoung’s hands gripping the edge of a table. Mark hurried to throw to the floor whatever was laying on it, sitting Jinyoung so that he didn’t have to further strain his muscles − even though Jinyoung found immense pleasure in feeling them shift under his hands. 

In a heartbeat, Mark was back to kissing Jinyoung’s bruised lips, nibbling on them while he worked on his own belt. Once he popped it off and managed to unbutton his pants, Jinyoung moaned at the back of his throat, tightening his legs around the elder. He could already feel the other man’s erection against him, a rush of blood heading south leaving him light headed. 

Jinyoung took care of his own pants, his trembling hands eventually popping the button off and pushing the zip down. Mark was biting at his ear, leaving soft kisses on the sensitive skin that had Jinyoung almost purring at the attention. He skimmed his fingers along the hem of Mark’s boxers, playfully teasing him, before he sunk his hand in them. He grabbed Mark in his hand, taking pride in hearing the other groan loudly. He stroked him lazily, but with purpose. Mark was biting him then, his sharp canines leaving small indents in Jinyoung’s plaint skin. He was starting to get lost in his own movements, in the way Mark was panting right against his neck; sounds were so distant, and all he needed was to be _touched, too_. 

Suddenly, he jerked out of his reverie when he felt himself being lifted. He gasped, feeling the cold wall against his back. 

“Stop playing.” Mark growled, irises blown out by lust. 

Jinyoung smirked, kissing him on the nose. “I thought you liked games.”

Just like that, he felt himself being thrown on the soft mattress, Mark’s display of strength exciting him more than he would have thought possible. Mark could have forced him into any position, and Jinyoung would have happily let himself be guided. 

“I thought we were done playing by now.” Mark pressed open mouthed kisses along Jinyoung’s jaw. He couldn’t repress a loud moan when the latter circled his hand around him once again. 

“You’re right. We should stop playing.” Jinyoung breathed into Mark’s ear, before he turned them around. He placed butterfly kisses down his chest, then his abdomen, until he reached his pelvis. Mark was hard, beads of precum leaking onto his stomach. Jinyoung lapped at them, purring at how satisfying the other’s reactions were. 

Mark buckled his hips up, asking Jinyoung for _more_. The dark haired man smirked, licking a wet stripe all the way from the base of Mark’s cock to its head. Then, he sunk his mouth down the shaft, hollowing out his cheeks. He could hear Mark’s soft whines mixing with the wet sounds of his saliva dribbling down his chin. 

When Mark grabbed Jinyoung’s hair, pulling on it slightly, he probably wasn’t expecting to get a loud moan from the younger. Mark blinked owlishly at him, chest rising and falling with every burning breath. Jinyoung felt heat sitting high on his cheeks, a shy smile painting his face.

“You can do that again-” His sentence got cut off by Mark pushing his thumb into his mouth. Jinyoung moaned around it, surprised by the action. 

“I—” Mark had a wild expression on his face, eyes dark and glinting with something bordering on manic. “Can I cum on your face?”

At that, Jinyoung felt his own dick twitch in his boxers, vision going hazy. He had never been so hard in his life. He nodded, not trusting his words at that point. Mark released a long breath, gliding his thumb over Jinyoung’s lower lip. 

“Fuck…” Mark let his head fall on the pillows when he felt once again a warm mouth wrapping around his length. He could feel himself nearing his orgasm, when he pushed Jinyoung off of him, staring at his bruised lips. He hurriedly took himself in his hand, pumping to a fast rhythm, while Jinyoung waited with his mouth open. 

It didn’t take much for Mark to cover the other’s face in his own release, streaks of white sticking to Jinyoung’s thick lashes and cheeks. “Fuck.” 

Jinyoung licked off what little had gotten on his upper lip, making a show of wiping off the rest with his fingers. 

“Fuck.” It felt like the only word Mark could come up with during that moment.

“Very eloquent.” Jinyoung joked, trailing his way back up his body and kissing him on the lips. The kiss was slow, languid; they had worn off the rawest need that had been clinging to them since they had left the bar, which had finally been appeased.

Mark reached out for Jinyoung, winding his arms around his waist. “Let me help you.” He whispered against his lips. 

Jinyoung shyly ducked his head, looking to the side. “About that…” 

They both stared at the wet spot staining his boxers, Mark blinking rapidly before bursting into giggles. “Did you come because of a blowjob?”

Jinyoung puffed out his cheeks in indignation. “Shut up.” He turned his head to the side, hiding it in the pillows.

“Jinyoungie.” Mark nuzzled his nose at the nape of his neck. “I’m flattered that you found me that sexy.”

Jinyoung took a peek at the blonde, his gentle smile directed at him. It made his heart swell with warmth. 

“You are _really_ sexy, Mr. Tuan.” Jinyoung cooed, leaving his hide-out. 

“Especially _these_.” He grabbed at Mark’s biceps, giving them a squeeze. They truly were a sight. 

Mark hummed, biting his lower lip. “Want to see them in action some more?”

“Please.”

* * *

Warm sun rays filtered through the half closed shutters, bathing the room in their feeble light. The faint sound of passing cars could be heard in the distance, a soft wind making the white drapes dance.

Jinyoung opened his eyes to the feeling of fingertips gently brushing against his cheeks, sweeping past the tip of his nose, moving to his upper lip. He mumbled sleepily, the warmth of a body pressed up against him lulling him back into unconsciousness. 

“Good morning, there.” Dulcet tones grazed his ears, puffs of air ghosting over his neck. Goosebumps traveled down his back, his arms reaching out to grab the figure looming over him by the waist. 

“‘Morning…” He muttered, while a pair of lips peppered his chest and collarbones in light kisses.

“How are you?”

Jinyoung inhaled deeply, turning his head on both sides to take in his surroundings. Overall, the hotel room looked its usual self, if not for the clothes scattered all over the floor. His brain slowly geared into action when he caught sight of a blond mop of hair and the loveliest smile he ever had the pleasure of seeing, peering up at him. 

“My back hurts. My head, too.” Jinyoung whined, jutting his lower lip out. 

Mark laughed, traveling back up his body to kiss the pout away. “Any other complaints?”

Jinyoung rolled the elder so that he was lying on top of him. He skittered his fingertips across Mark’s chest, circling the love bites sitting by his collarbones. 

“Yes. How come have I more bruises than you?” 

Grinning, Mark showed his pearly white teeth, making a show of sliding his tongue over his pointed canines. “I like to bite.” 

Jinyoung plopped back on the mattress, thumbing at one of the hickeys sitting right above his hip bone. “I could tell.”

The sound of a phone buzzing broke the hazy atmosphere that had been blanketing the two. Mark groaned, reaching out to pick at his discarded pants lying half across the bedside table. From the corner of his eyes, all Jinyoung could see was the broad expanse of Mark’s back, muscles moving under his skin. Thin, red lines traveling down and disappearing under the covers had Jinyoung think back to the previous night. For the first time in so long, his heart was feeling at peace . 

Mark got to a sitting position, stretching his arms up above his head. Jinyoung couldn’t tear his eyes off of the show that was the light entering the room and drawing patterns on the body before him. 

“Jackson says he wants to meet us later.” Mark turned to face Jinyoung. “What do you say?”

Jinyoung grumbled, rubbing his face. “Do we really have to?” His words were muffled by his hands.

Mark chuckled, forcing Jinyoung to look at him. “You’re so grumpy in the mornings.” The laughter in his voice was enough to make Jinyoung’s heart burst. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He continued. “But he wants to see you one last time, before you leave.” Mark trailed off, eyes suddenly looking gloomier. 

_Leaving_.

Despite the neatly done luggage sitting at the corner of the hotel room, Jinyoung had completely forgotten about his life outside of that bubble of happiness. Right there, next to Mark and his warmth, he was no longer the young CEO who had to give up his youth to take after his parents’ business. He had shed his mask, all the pretenses he had to keep up with so many people around him. All of a sudden he was laying his whole self naked, not only his body, but his soul too. No walls constricting him, but tender fingers fitting right between his. 

A pair of lips laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’ll go take a shower.” 

Mark slipped out of the covers, feet padding against the floor. Jinyoung watched him disappear into the bathroom, door sliding closed. 

So many things had changed since Jinyoung had first landed in a country so different from his. All of the worries that had been dancing in his mind, at one point had somehow melted into the scalding asphalt of LA, leaving him feeling light. 

Meeting Mark had been an unexpected turn of events in his life, but he couldn’t picture himself without the other male’s calming presence anymore. Thinking about having to say goodbye to those arms that had welcomed him with so much acceptance had Jinyoung gripping at the bed covers.

The sound of the shower turning off pulled Jinyoung out his own mind. He was overthinking on an empty stomach and, worst of all, _with no coffee_ in his system. He shook his head, getting to his feet to fetch his boxers. 

Various clanking sounds came from the bathroom, Jinyoung furrowing his brows in worry. 

“Mark?” He called out. 

When he received no answer, he moved up to the door, hand poised on the knob. 

“Mark?” He tried once more. 

Jinyoung was close to forcing his way into the bathroom, worried that something had happened to Mark, when the door almost slammed him in the face. He released a surprised sound, scanning the other from head to toe. Nothing seemed wrong.

“Mark, is everything alright?” 

Mark said nothing, water droplets travelling down his temples from his wet hair. His face looked paler than it had not too long before, lips pulled into a flat line. Jinyoung felt more and more confused, until a firm grip got a hold of his left wrist. 

Mark cast his eyes downwards, to the hand that was laying limp at Jinyoung’s side. He lifted it up, so he could stare at it with cold eyes. 

When everything inside Jinyoung’s head clicked into place, he knew it was already too late. 

A trembling digit skimmed over the paler skin that circled the base of Jinyoung’s ring finger, Mark’s breath itching audibly. 

And just like a vision from a different world, a golden band was slipped into it. 

Somewhere, in a warped place of his mind, Jinyoung thought that in a parallel universe he could have been happy. He could have been happy of having Mark − soft-spoken Mark, with his hair flopping into his bright eyes; maybe a shy smile on his face − placing such a meaningful object into his fourth finger. He could have been so _happy_ , he would have probably cried. 

Now, he felt like crying, but it was not because of joy overwhelming him.

Etched on Mark’s face was not a smile, but a calculated frown. His eyes were fixed on that small piece of jewelry reflecting off the white lights of the bathroom. His jaw was pulled tight, Jinyoung feeling his stomach turn at the mere sight. 

A rush of breath left Jinyoung. “Mark…” Why did his voice sound so raw? 

Mark released his grip on Jinyoung’s wrist, walking past him to collect his clothes scattered all over the room. Silence smothered them. Jinyoung felt light-headed, like he could either float away or collapse lifeless to the ground. 

“I can explain…” Jinyoung knew he was falling into idiotic clichés. Yet, his thoughts sounded all like static; distant and confused. 

Mark pulled his shirt over his head with too much strength, ripping it on the side. He didn’t seem to care though, judging from the way he shrugged on his jacket. Jinyoung swallowed past a lump in his throat. He was still standing by the bathroom door, legs barely keeping him upright. 

“Mark, hear—”

“No.”

Mark’s voice cut through the air like a blade. His eyes eventually settled on Jinyoung: they burned like fiery embers, but turned the latter’s heart into frozen ice. 

Jinyoung took a step forward. “If you could just let me explain—”

“I don’t give a fuck, Jinyoung!” Mark exploded. Jinyoung had never seen him like that. 

Somehow, he doubted even his own _family_ had ever even seen him like that. 

“I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say! You are _married_ , for Christ’s sake! And you _never_ said as much!” Mark had his hands in his hair, pulling on it.

Jinyoung was never good at confrontation. His hackles rose fast and his defensive walls always went up to protect what little dignity he had left. Unsurprisingly, he responded in the most childish and obnoxious way he knew.

“Well, you never asked!”

“I never…! I never _asked_?! Jinyoung I don’t go around asking people who are _clearly_ flirting with me if they’re married!” Mark’s voice thundered.

Jinyoung could taste something bitter in his mouth. He wanted to stop his words, but the flood couldn’t be held.

“Why would this even matter to you.”

At that, Mark dropped his arms at his sides, defeated. “I don’t know.”

He scrunched his face up. Jinyoung could tell that he was trying not to cry. 

“Fuck.” Mark pressed his balled hands into his eyes, shaking his head. Jinyoung’s heart was torn between staying in place, or having him walk the small distance between him and the miserable man standing before him, and embracing him. 

Mark breathed out a rush of air. “I have no fucking idea, okay? Shit… I thought we could have had something… I feel so fucking stupid.” He muttered the last words, walking to pick up the rest of his belongings. 

Everything was falling apart. The safe place that they had shared that morning, had turned into a fighting cage. Jinyoung couldn’t let things collapse. In his desperation, he moved to block the path to the main door. 

“Mark, I swear. You just need to hear me out.”

“Get the fuck away from me.” 

Mark shouldered past Jinyoung, the latter rushing to grab him by the arm. 

“Don’t go.” If either of them stopped long enough to pay attention to what Jinyoung had just said, they could hear the pure fear leaking out his every word. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

The door slammed closed, windows rattling under the force of the impact. 

For what seemed like forever, Jinyoung stared at a fixed spot on the floor. He could barely blink, let alone stand, so he weakly let himself walk the way back to the bed, sitting on it. His eyes didn’t leave the entrance all day, body frozen in place. 

When tears started pooling at the corner of his eyes, he let his head fall into his hands.

* * *

The clock ticked away on the wall, black numbers on a white background. It was the most stereotypical clock Jinyoung had ever seen. It went well with the black, white and brown furniture decorating the room. Even the wallpaper covering the wall managed to look stereotypical. 

Stale flowers on table tops, sidled up to white papers and black pens. It was almost nauseating how every person sitting beside him was dressed in the same, monotonous way. Everyone, aside from Yeojin. Her pink dress was a stark contrast to the things surrounding her. 

“Mr. Park? Will you please sign this paper?”

Jinyoung blinked back his thoughts, regaining his composure. He picked up the fountain pen that was being handed to him, scribbling his signature next to each _X_ sign.

“Will this be all?” He asked, voice numb. All he wanted was for the day to be over. 

Yeojin collected all the scattered documents, tapping them once on the table, before handing them to her lawyers. One of them nodded, wishing Jinyoung a good day, before they all vacated the large table. 

Divorces weren’t unheard of in their kind of world. Thinking about it, Jinyoung found it harder to conjure to his mind a couple who actually stuck together for that fateful _until death did them apart_ , rather than going separate ways and building a new life. He definitely wasn’t hoping for his marriage to go on forever, and neither did he feel any regret in thinking so. However, when at the end of the day he was left driving back to an empty house, he knew that what hurt him more was the reason _why_ it had happened in the first place. 

_“I’m pregnant.”_

_Jinyoung looked up from his plate, chopsticks in mid-air on their way to his mouth._

_“What -”_

_Yeojin shook her head, teeth biting on her bottom lip. Her lipstick was perfectly in place, if not for the truly imperceptible pink smudge at the corner of her mouth. She gripped at her knees, staring Jinyoung dead on._

_“I’m pregnant, Jinyoung. This was- It wasn’t supposed to happen.”_

_Despite hearing the words, Jinyoung could barely wrap his head around them. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember the last time he had touched his wife in _that_ way, and it all confused him. The only softness he could still feel lingering against his body, belonged to someone he had left behind months ago. The warm lips that ghosted over his pulse didn’t belong to his wife. _

_“It is not my child.” His tone wasn’t accusatory; he was stating a fact._

_“No, it’s not.” Yeojin’s gaze was unwavering. “I’m not aborting.”_

_It was like a flash, the tip of a needle breaching through his thoughts. Jinyoung had been an only child all of his life, but it was no secret how he would have loved to have a younger sibling to coddle. And when he realized that he wouldn’t be graced with such a gift from his parents, he started to dream about a life of his own. His own family, with kids running around, calling him dad and begging him to take them to the park._

_Jinyoung faintly smiled. Who cared if the kid wasn’t his? He would have loved them nonetheless. He would have tried to be a figure they would be proud of. Different from how his own parents had been. He wanted to try._

_“I want a divorce.”_

 

Jaebum dragged Jinyoung’s heavy body across the living room, dumping him on the couch. He rolled his shoulders, huffing out a sigh. A drunk Jinyoung was one hell of a handful. 

“I know I’m the one who says you should eat more, but you have one _heavy_ ass.” He flopped next to his best friend, moving the hair out of his face. “You look like shit.”

Jinyoung chuckled, smothering his face in the cushions. “Seriously…” 

“I mean it. You look like literal shit.”

“If this is what I have to hear for the rest of the night, then you can take your snarky ass somewhere else.” 

Jaebum stood up, making his way into the kitchen. He returned with a glass of water and a beer. Jinyoung instinctively reached out for the alcohol, Jaebum moving it out of his reach. 

“You take this.” He thrusted the glass in Jinyoung’s hands, taking a gulp from the bottle himself. 

“Hey! This is my house! I paid for that.” Jinyoung whined. 

“No more alcohol for you. I saw those extra shots you charmed out of the barista. And only God knows when was the last time you even ingested something vaguely healthy- Shut up, I know you order takeout pizza every night.”

Jinyoung sighed, letting his weak body melt into the couch. Jaebum was right, but he didn’t need to hear those words. They both wallowed in their silence, the light coming from the kitchen filtering through the room, casting shadows over the floor. Jinyoung floated in and out of consciousness; the brighter streaks of light reminded him of the LA sun kissing blond locks. 

“We should go to bed.” Jaebum mumbled sleepily. 

Since Yeojin had moved out of the house, Jaebum didn’t trust leaving Jinyoung alone. The man would drink himself stupid every night, babbling about missed chances and dumb mistakes. Jaebum knew he had made the right choice in staying by his friend’s side when he caught the _Why didn’t I die, too?_ casually thrown in there. 

Sleep was a dreadful affair for Jinyoung. When his head hit the pillow, tears would start wetting it. If he had to pinpoint what the exact reason was, he’d lose himself in an endless maze of regrets, curling around his bones. 

_“I am going to be alone.”_ He would repeat over and over, until Jaebum woke up and offered to take him for a walk. 

Jinyoung realized how, with Yeojin being his wife, came the false sense of security of having someone bound to your side. She gave out fake _I love you_ s, but they were _I love you_ s nonetheless. Jinyoung should have expected for things to change once he got back from America. He grew even more distant, unable to bear to keep up an act that he had started to detest. After Mark, he didn’t want anyone else getting too close. After Mark, he had felt like a too thin sheet of ice. Anything could break him. 

And break he did. Eventually. 

Yeojin had stopped calling him _love_ , or _dear_. She would be gone for days on end, leaving Jinyoung in their house to stare at his phone, at a number he had saved back on his business trip. He was so busy wallowing in his own pity that he had failed to realize that he was being left alone. 

_“I want a divorce.”_

Whoever the man was, Jinyoung couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. It wasn’t directed at his ex-wife, no. It was directed at the happiness that she had finally obtained by leaving a relationship that was meaningless to begin with, to be with someone she probably loved. 

Jinyoung sobbed against the cold mattress, curling on himself. 

“Jinyoung?” Jaebum called out.

“I lied, I’m never going to have him back. I don’t deserve him, I don’t deserve happiness, Jaebum.”

Jaebum shuffled around, placing a comforting hand on Jinyoung’s back. He had run out of comforting words long ago. 

He waited for Jinyoung’s sobs to subside before he murmured into the darkness of the bedroom.

“I received a message, some days ago. It was from someone named Jackson.”

Jinyoung was as still as a stone. Jaebum carefully continued .

“He sent me a message saying that he would be here in Korea for a week. Mark’s here too.”

The loud thrum of Jinyoung’s heart in his ears muffled out the last words. His legs kicked out, covers thrown to the floor. He curled on himself more. 

“He said he would like to meet you—” 

Jinyoung abruptly got to a sitting position, hair a mess and sticking up every which way. Half-dried tear streaks lined his cheeks, a wild look in his eyes. 

“Don’t do this, Jaebum. Don’t do this to me.” 

Jaebum frowned, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. 

“Jinyoung, you can’t fucking let yourself rot away in here.”

“Watch me.”

“No, shut up. Why are you so fucking stubborn.” Jaebum sounded aggravated. Jinyoung wondered if he was soon going to lose him, too. 

“Now, you are going to sleep. We will talk about this at a later time.”

* * *

Jinyoung flipped channels for the umpteenth time, ending up on another cooking show. He wondered if they were the new _it_ program; he couldn’t catch anything else on TV. Despite the early hour of the morning, his shutters were all closed, blocking sunlight from entering the house. The living room smelled of day-old takeout and sweat. It was no surprise, seeing how Jinyoung hadn’t showered in what seemed like forever. He didn’t see the point in doing it, anyway. 

“I’m back! Why does it always smell like something is rotting in here?” Jaebum muttered the last sentence under his breath, disgust making his nose wrinkle. “Oh God, I think I stepped on a dead animal.” 

Jinyoung merely flinched at Jaebum’s voice coming from the main entrance. He had given his friend a pair of keys to the house. _Just in case_ Jaebum had said. Of _what_ , Jinyoung wasn’t exactly sure; he didn’t want to ponder further on it. 

Suddenly, a rough shove sent him tumbling to the ground from his comfortable spot on the couch.

“What the fuck!” Jinyoung yelled, massaging his backside. 

“Get up. And take a shower. Shit, did you bathe in mold?”

Jinyoung stuck his tongue out at the accusation. 

“Even if I did, I have zero plans of consuming my energies into something as stupid as washing.”

“You’ve been absent from the company all week. What’s up with that.” 

Jinyoung shrugged.

“I can’t believe you’re an actual five-year-old. Here.” Jaebum threw Jinyoung a change of clothes. The latter stared at it confusedly from his spot on the floor. 

“Today is the last day Jackson and Mark are going to be in Seoul. If you move your fat ass, we can catch them at the airport.”

Jinyoung coughed, staring menacingly at his friend. 

“I thought we were clear that—”

“That you didn’t want to meet Mark because you made a mistake once and you refuse to face it, all in the name of simmering your ass in your own self-pity.”

Jinyoung’s face fell, Jaebum crouching in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t watch you being like this anymore. You believe that you don’t deserve forgiveness for what you did to Mark. You were a dick, we already settled that. But you can start over.” Jaebum stared at Jinyoung with a pointed expression.

“I— Do I—” Words wouldn’t come out, sticking to the back of his throat. 

“Forgive yourself, Jinyoung. Everyone else will understand.” 

It sounded simple, but it was probably the hardest thing for Jinyoung to do. His eyes were wet with fresh tears, the place on his left hand where his ring used to sit was now bare. Nothing was weighing on it anymore, only memories of how utterly betrayed Mark looked that morning. 

God, Jinyoung missed Mark _so much_. 

His life was already a wreck. It had been since the day he had decided to deny himself his freedom. 

“Shit…” 

Jinyoung had no idea when the plane was scheduled to leave, so he jumped to his feet, checking the time. Jaebum seemed to catch on to his intentions.

“They’re leaving in an hour.”

Jinyoung exhaled, shoulders squaring up. “Start the car.”

Jaebum grinned, reaching for the car keys in his pocket. “I’m on it.”

Jinyoung showered, washed his hair and changed into clean clothes in record time. His heart couldn’t stop beating wildly in his chest, his hands jittery as he dropped the bottle of shampoo for the third consecutive time. He cursed at how his jeans refused to collaborate, and at how his hair wouldn’t sit straight. He threw a jacket on his shoulders, slipped on a pair of shoes and run for the car that was waiting for him outside his house. 

Once Jinyoung got inside, Jaebum sped away, zooming past the city in the blink of an eye. Honestly speaking, Jinyoung feared for his life more than once, but he was glad that his best friend understood the importance of arriving on time. 

He still had a long way to go before he settled his whole life straight. So many things to change before he started to _breathe right_ again; so many unsure things. 

One thing Jinyoung was sure of though, was how _right_ the feeling of the ocean breeze brushing through his hair felt. How Mark’s comforting presence had shaken him to the core, yet grounded him like nothing else before. The bright smiles, the enticing eyes, the vast sky disappearing past the horizon.

Jinyoung cried once more inside Jaebum’s car. He couldn’t believe how he had been so lost in his own dark thoughts that he had totally forgotten about those memories. And now that they all emerged back to the surface, he couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked his body. 

He had let his first love go, and he needed him back.


End file.
